The Londonderry sifter. (South Londonderry, Vt.) 1883-19??, 1887-08-04

sort of fancy came into my head. Per-
haps l did not know the route as well as
had thought. Perhaps l had even
passed the cabins and was going away
from them with every step. ought to
have reached them in three hours at the
utmost. 1t seemed to me I had been
hurting along for twice three hours.
Once tried madly to fight back into
the wind. 1t was hopcless-worse than
useless. l should drop with exhaustion
in few minutes, l must keep going.
had gone over the edge of an old
buffalo run scoopcd deep by the rush of
summer rains. lay still for a little
while. l must have gone to sleep or
perhaps tainted away. Anyway, when I
came to myself again, the world was as
still as the grave. The wind had gone
down, as it will sometimes, suddenly and
entirely. The silence was dismal l got
on my feet, stiff and bcnumbed. In all
that gray, still, ghastly space there was
nothing to tell east from west, or north
from south. l was lost on the big range.
The cold was dangerous. l could not
stop. must move somewhere. Imust
make myself a purposc-a purpose to
keep alive at least-till daylight came.
began walking; it did not matter in
what direction. If only my strength
held out till morning-strength to keep
off that horrible drowsiness. know I
stumbled heavily along. l was thinking
about Molly and her baby; it all seemed
like dull dream. And then bells began
to ring, deep, soft, far off. l stopped
in my tracks to listen. 1t was the sound
of bells, certain, full and sweet. turned
and went blindly on, following the sound
as hound might follow a scent
All at once saw light. 1t wasn't a
star; there were no stars And nobody
lived on the big range, unless some
camper was travelling about, and campers
don't travel in the teeth of northcr.
And this light swung and wavered, went
out entirely for second or two, and
then burned up again. And near or far l
could not tell, only it was light and it
moved, and followed it, And I could
hear the bells all the time.
More than once l fell, but l always
| got up and went on. l was talking to
myself part of the time, hearing my own
voice and thinking it was someone else's.
l lost my sense of time again but kept
on doggcdly. Suddenly the light
flashed brighter, whirled about in a
wild sort of way and went out entirely.
gave shout and ran forward. ]
thought should die if lost it. And
there was standing on wide trail,
with sort of square, dark shape stand
ing up in the dimness before me, with
light and voices coming out of the
chinks, and somehow there was the dool
and my hand on the latch, and in another
second--oh! it was MollyMolly with g
lamp in her hand, bending over feeding
box made into cradle, with great
armful of hay and a white sheepskin fol
a cover, and Madlson's wife kneeling or
one side and Clayton's wife on the other
and beyond with the lights flashing il
their great, wondering, shining eyes, {
pair of astonished horses. And ther
there came a piping cry from the feeding
trough and | knew l had found the baby
Burned out2 Yes, sir. That was tht
last thing; but they had warning before
the fire came down on them. jim Clay
ton had taken the woman and strucl
across for the big road and they took th'
first shelter they came to, stable tha
had been built in the days when all tn,
California supplies went overland b,
mule train. When the wind fell he tool
the lantern and tried to find a cabin tha
used to stand somewhere near, and hat
been following him for half an hour.
ooh, yes, at last I'm well fixed now
forty head of cattle out on the Gunnison
And Molly spends her summers bacl
home, and she and the babies bring bacl
enough Group, and bronchitis sore throa
to last them half the next winter In
dependent.